


Bury Yourself Until You Can't Be Found

by Jester85



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Het, M/M, Pining, Self-Denial, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jester85/pseuds/Jester85
Summary: Tom goes through an existential/sexuality crisis about his lust for his best friend Harrison, and engages in self-destructive and promiscuous behavior (with girls) to drown it out.





	Bury Yourself Until You Can't Be Found

**Author's Note:**

> This might be kind of crappy, and it felt rushed to get to the end. I apologize if so.

When one realizes that one has altogether inappropriate levels of feelings toward one's very _male_ best mate since childhood, what's a Spider to do?

Drown oneself in booze, boobs, and pussy, apparently.

He hates it.  He feels dirty.  This isn't the kind of person he is.  Thank God he at least has his own place now, but Mum and Dad are practically next door, and they catch wind of the drastic ramp-up in his sex life, and...they're not impressed.  They didn't raise him to be like this either, pulling some random fangirl in a club and just bringing her home and banging her.  Even if she likes it, he doesn't.

And no matter how many girls there are, their faces all blending into a fuzzy, drunken blur, no matter how much the alcohol and hormones and whirl of confused desperate lust in his head always conspire to let him temporarily stop thinking about Haz and just _get on with it_...there is always the stubborn little niggling voice that whispers _you'll still have to think about him in the morning._

On Sunday he washes his sheets and makes his bed.  He can't stand the tangled sheets reeking of sex anymore.  He wants to cuddle with his baby Tessa and burrow under the covers and feel free and innocent again, not like this.....boozy, womanizing _twat_ he's turned into, like all the other spoiled young stars he vowed he wouldn't be like.

Thank God none of them have gone to the tabloids yet, so there's no humiliating headlines about sweet innocent Tom Holland shagging his way through half the young female population of London or passing out drunk, either alone or with female company, but _he_ knows.

He can't stand to face himself in the mirror anymore.  He's not the person he thought he was.

And it's not even fixed anything.  It's all still broken.

When he's not banging girls or slamming back bottles, he pounds the punching bag, pounds it until his arms are aching, and he tells himself it's part of his Spider-Man workout regimen.

Haz doesn't say anything, doesn't comment besides raised eyebrows about the sudden wild upswing in his best mate's drinking and sex life, but Tom can tell Haz is worried about him.  Haz knows him, he knows this isn't him.

In his weaker moments, when he allows himself to ponder such things, Tom bets sex with Haz would be different.  Like something special shared between two people, like how he'd always imagined making love would feel like.

He wouldn't know.  His frantic, messy string of recent experiences certainly don't deserve to be called "making love".

On Wednesday he makes a drunken pass at Zendaya.  In what he'll later look back on as the most shameful moment of his life, he drunkenly slurs something more fratboy-ish than he'd have thought himself capable of, something about how she's always wanted his dick.

She punches him, as he deserves.  Then she drives him home, because she doesn't trust him out and about while he's blitzed himself into a whole new personality staggering around as a pale facsimile of the sweet boy she knows.

Then she goes through his kitchen and dumps every ounce of alcohol down the sink, because he "obviously can't handle it", and it makes him "a whole fucking other person, and you know what Tom?  I don't like that person very much, and I'd kind of like _my friend_ back".

On Thursday morning he staggers out of his bedroom, feeling like he got run over by a train and praying for the sweet merciful release of death, but knowing he doesn't feel half as bad as he deserves to.

Z is still there, spending the night in his guest room.  He throws up and she rubs his back and cleans up after him, and then holds him when he breaks down sobbing in her arms and babbles how he doesn't even know who he is anymore. 

And she tells him he's Tom.

He starts acting like Tom again.  He spends time with his little brothers who haven't seen him in weeks, reestablishing frayed lines of trust, he plays basketball with Harrison and afterward masturbates furiously in the bathroom to memories of Haz's half-naked body and comes harder than he's ever came in his life, alone or not.

He's too focused on worrying about his own eyes tracking Haz that he doesn't notice Haz tracks him back.

He watches a movie with Z, snuggled up on his couch with his head on her shoulder and her fingers idly carding through his hair.

He's only half-watching the movie, but the movie isn't the point.

"You should tell him," he says, apropos of nothing.

"Wha----what?"  He shifts up to look her in the eye, heart beating a little faster.

Z rolls her eyes.  "Ugh, Tom, please.  I'm not an idiot.  When my best friend suddenly turns into a raging alcoholic with a hard-on for every girl who crosses his path, it's not that hard to figure out there's something else going on.  And it's not that big a mystery the way you look at Harrison."

"He's my best friend," Tom mumbles.

"That boy has been following you around like a lovesick puppy for years, I'd be willing to bet you wouldn't get turned down if you knocked on that door, just sayin'."

And, well, that gives Tom a lot to think about.

And in true Tom Holland fashion, he overthinks.  And thinks.  And thinks.

But he stops sucking down alcohol like he needs it to live and having sex with people he doesn't want to be with, so he counts that as progress.

"You look good," Haz comments nonchalantly as Tom welcomes in the door for their scheduled gamer night an indeterminate amount of thinking and some decision-making later.

"Yea?" Tom can't help but perk up at his mate's compliment, and just the thought of being alone in a house with Haz where something could possibly maybe happen has him more nervous than he's been since the awkward, fumbling mess of losing his virginity in now ancient history.

Haz ducks his head, ears turning a little pink.  "Yea, Thomas."  He looks back up, and there's a wide smirk on his face.

Tom stares for a minute.  "You talked to Z, didn't you?"

Haz shrugs, still grinning like an idiot.  "Might've done."

".....and?"

Haz shrugs and nods.  "And....yea, Tommy."

Tom swallows hard, feeling on the precipice of something so much bigger than anything he's done before, even stepping into the Spideysuit.  "I'm not fucking around anymore.  That's not me."

Harrison nods, eyes a little more somber.  "Didn't seem like it, to me..."

Tom tentatively takes Haz's hand, and they both start at the touch, like an electric spark passes between them.  "I didn't want them.  I....I want you."

Harrison ducks his head again, then looks back up, grinning absurdly through his blush.  "The good news keeps coming."

Tom gives him some more good news that shuts him up for a while.

When they part, breathless and elated, from their first kiss, Haz looks more serious again and for a moment Tom worries, because his mind is always working itself into a panic. 

"But I'm not...."  Haz firmly shakes his head.  "I'm not going in there with you yet, Tom," he jerks his head in the direction of Tom's bedroom.  "I love you, and I want to be with you, but I'm not gonna let you fuck me just to shore up whatever identity crisis you're going through."

Tom isn't so noble as to pretend he never has any plans about getting Harrison in there, but for now he realizes he doesn't even want that.

"I want to do this proper, Haz.  I want to be boyfriends.  I want to hold your hand.  I want to kiss you.  And yea, maybe at some point we'll end up in there, but....I wish it'd all been with you, Haz.  I wish you were my first."

His voice wobbles a little, and Haz touches a hand to his cheek and kisses him softly.  "Hey.  I will be.  We'll be each other's firsts that really matter.  I want to share myself with you."

"I want that too," Tom blinks back against the stupid wetness in his eyes.  Damn it, he wishes he could rewrite his own sorry history.  It's always been Haz.  He should be learning all this for the first time with Haz.

But, he realizes, in a way, he is.

And as he takes his best mate turned boyfriend's hand again, and twines their fingers together, a promise sparking in Haz's eyes, he thinks maybe he can make it alright anyway.

 


End file.
